


Between Stars and Sleep

by sithdjarin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, because i'm soft, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithdjarin/pseuds/sithdjarin
Summary: A tender moment between you and your Mandalorian.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 187





	Between Stars and Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic writing since high school so sorry for the mediocrity. Just feeling soft for Din today. I also don't ever know how to end things.

“Why are you still up?” The combination of Din’s voice breaking the stark quiet of the Razor Crest and his hand landing on your shoulder made you jump. It was late – or, at least, late for the last planet’s cycles you had gotten used to. The ship was on autopilot and Din had suggested you both get some sleep, as the commute was quite long. The problem was, you couldn’t. Your brain just couldn’t quiet down enough for you to slip away from consciousness, meanwhile Din had passed out as soon as he hit the sorry excuse for a mattress in his living quarters. You didn’t want to bother him, especially since the Mandalorian doesn’t get many chances to take a long, uninterrupted rest these days between jobs and the kid. You had decided to stargaze in the cockpit instead, entertaining yourself by finally sewing up a hole in one of your old tunics.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied, passing the needle through the worn fabric and tugging to continue closing the rip. “Sorry if I woke you.” You glanced over at your Mandalorian, shed of the beskar, including his helmet. His hair was mussed from sleep, curling around the nape of his neck and his ears. He still had that sleepy look in his eyes, leaning forward against the back of the co-pilots chair you were curled up in, bare legs hidden under one of his old capes as a makeshift blanket. For nights like these, where you didn’t have to worry about waking up at a moment’s notice, you only slept in an old shirt. It may have been cold in space on the Crest, but Din was like a human radiator and kept you warm.

“You didn’t. I just woke up and you were gone,” he placed a kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there. There was a beat of silence before he continued. “I missed you.”

“I’ve only been out here for an hour.”

“Tell me about it,” he teased. A breathy chuckle escaped your lips. You liked when Din made light-hearted jokes around you. It was cute, and it meant he was comfortable, which made your heart sing. He lifted his head to move around to the side of the chair, reaching for your hands. He took your sewing project and set it aside. “Get up.”

“I’m comfortable.” Your whine made him roll his eyes playfully, but you let him drag you to your feet, nonetheless. He took your place in the chair, holding his arms out for you again. If only the rest of the galaxy knew that the best bounty hunter in the parsec was secretly the softest man you had ever encountered.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” You made no arguments as he pulled you onto his lap, resting against his chest. He hugged your waist as you both looked out upon the galaxy together. Neither of you said anything, reveling in the comfortable silence of space, and the warmth of your bodies pressed together. No interruptions, no worries, just a tender moment you would look back on the rare times you and Din weren’t with each other constantly. These are the moments you cherish.

Din nuzzled his nose into your neck, placing a soft kiss at the base and staying there for a few minutes. You could feel his breathing began to even out in gentle puffs against your neck. He was dozing off. You realized he was probably still tired, having finally been able to shut his brain off, his body was screaming to go back to sleep.

“Din?” You kept your voice quiet, and he let out a pleasant hum against your skin, pressing another kiss below your ear as he lifted his head groggily. “You can go back to bed if you want. I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t, cyar’ika, but I’d much prefer it if you were there, too. You need to rest,” another kiss, against your jaw this time. “And I can wait for you.”

“Okay,” you let him stay, enjoying the way he was holding you far too much to try and argue. He loosened his arms around you as you shifted towards the side of the chair so you could look at him more easily, throwing your legs perpendicular to his and wrapping your arms around his middle. Without his beskar on, he was addicting to hug. Although he was fit, as he had to be for the grueling work of bounty hunting, he was still soft. Perfect to hug and love on when the two of you were alone and had down time. Din had been confined under his armor for so long, deprived of human touch, that he had no qualms about your affectionate touches that sprung every chance you got. You craned your neck up to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He adjusted his arm around you, tucking your hair behind your ear and running his fingers through it, looking at you. “I think I’m already starting to get there, or I would’ve jumped your bones by now.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” He chuckled, his dimple making an appearance from his amusement. His arm that wasn’t wrapped around you found its new place on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles. You both looked at each other for a moment, before he leaned forward to connect your lips in a slow, sweet kiss. You rested your palm on his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone affectionately. His movements were tender, dragging on for minutes upon minutes, filling you with warmth and tingles down to your toes. Kissing Din was special. You suspected you had been his first, as he had told you early on in knowing each other that he hadn’t exposed his face to anyone since he was a foundling. Every time your lips met, sparks flew through your body like wildfire, and you felt extremely privileged to share that bit of intimacy with him. That he trusted you.

He hadn’t broken the Creed for you, no, and you never expected him to. His appearance was unimportant. You fell in love with him for his wit, his passion, and his determination. He was so caring in all the ways you never expected, paying attention to every little detail and you were completely oblivious to his affection for you until he confessed it late one night, his voice breaking because he was sure you wouldn’t return it. He had explained how he had come to care for you, and how it had tormented him. Him, a Mandalorian, becoming insecure about loving someone because it was new and vulnerable and scarier than anything he had experienced before. You shocked him into silence when you rested a hand on his knee and rested your forehead against his helmet, whispering that you felt the same.

Din didn’t reveal his face to you until cycles upon cycles upon cycles later, filled with love and happiness from your relationship. Although there were bumps along the way, you knew you wouldn’t change a thing and could no longer imagine your life without him in it. So, you told him this one night, as you were both undressing for bed, having the ability to sleep for just a few hours before scouting for another job the next day. He had responded by asking how you felt about marriage. Taken aback a bit, you thought for a moment, before telling him if you were going to marry someone, it would be him. He was it for you. He stuttered a moment, which was odd to hear with his modulator, before kneeling on the bed and grabbing your hands to join him.

That was the night the two of you married, on Din’s crappy cot on the Crest, murmuring vows in Mando’a to each other in the dark of the ship. It was intimate, and perfect.

You remembered Din rubbing his thumb in circles over your palm nervously, before lifting your hands in his to the sides of his helmet, silently pressing the release switch and tugging upwards. Your breath hitching and heart beating out of your chest as he revealed his face to you. It was completely silent. What were you supposed to say? Words completely left you as you took in all of his gorgeous features, his hooked nose, crow’s feet crinkling his eyes as he smiled nervously.

“Am I ugly?” He had joked softly, and you, tearing up a bit, laughed.

“Shut up,” you took his face in your hands, feeling the pleasant roughness of his scruff against your skin. “You’re beautiful, Din.” He blushed at your words. _Blushed_. You had felt quite accomplished, making a bounty hunter get flustered. He seemed to recover quickly, however, gently pushing you onto the bed and sealing your lips with his in a bruising kiss that was incomparable to any other feeling in the world.

-

“You fall asleep there, mesh’la?” Din’s rough voice, still deep from his tired state, broke your thoughts. The brush of his lips against yours as you spoke left trails of tingles, and you suddenly felt more sated than ever.

“Sorry, I guess I really am tired.”

“Is my kissing really that bad?” His hand splayed over the back of your thigh, gently teasing. You smiled.

“That’s why we practice.” You returned in jest, and he raised an eyebrow in amusement. You rested a hand on his chest, the other combing through the hair at the nape of his neck. The humor in his expression faded into a soft, adoring look that melted your heart. Stars, you loved this man. And he clearly loved you.

“You’re a little brat sometimes, you know that?” He bumped his nose against yours affectionately. In any other situation that would have gotten you all riled up, but you were simply too tired. Yet, you still reveled in the feeling of his rough hand sliding up your shirt to rest on your bare skin under the loose tunic covering your body. This was nothing more than chaste, Din often slept with his hand shoved up your shirt or resting somewhere to feel the warmth of your soft skin. It kept him grounded and soothed him enough to fall asleep for hours holding you without worry. He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a gentle kiss against your palm. “Sometimes I don’t know how I deal with you.”

“With great difficulty,” you grinned. “And the kid likes me.”

“He _loves_ you,” Din corrected. He laced your fingers together and pressed another kiss to your knuckles. “We both do.” Warmth ran through you, and you returned his sentiment. “Let’s get to bed, cyare. You can barely keep your eyes open anymore.”


End file.
